I grew more assured, as each minute passed, that you had not changed during the time you went away.
My hopes went crashing to the floor when you left without saying goodbye, but now you're back and you're exactly the same.
I guess I should be happy, that you're still the same boy I fell in love with years ago. But no; all I can think about is how much time was wasted and how what could have been, and what should have been, will never be.
It would have been better if you came back entirely different. With you being the same person, all that stands out are the things that have changed. Like the awkward silences and the glances from across the room.
You can't expect things to just fall back into place, you can't expect things to be how they were. All of this is now just a void, what we had was swept away.
Saturday, 8 March 2008
Welcomed into the New Year with laughter, fun and joy. The celebration was held with family, fireworks and drinks. Gambling with cousins, lucky streaks, bankruptcy. It was a kodak-moment event; laughter and the sound of clinking glasses filled the air, conversation never running short, glasses never empty. Cards, coins and notes tossed onto the table, only to be used to buy more drinks. Fireworks lit up the sky, the lights danced a dance of happiness, new roads, new chances, new beginnings. The dancers faded into the night sky, disappeared behind their dark curtains and left their audience with an awed silence...
and the hope of a New Year.
The tears flow out, uncontrollably. Tears of Hate.
The heat of my temper. Balanced by the chill of the tiled floor.
The anger running through my veins. Escaping through my pores.
There is no reason to feel this way.
Yet, I do.
And I want to hurt you. I want you to feel bad.
But I don't know why.
I read a passage in my diary.
I took a trip down memory lane
to the times you pierced me with your mixed signals.
I remember the time spent hoping;
The nights spent hurting;
The showers spent crying.
And I felt the hate surge through me.
Even though that's all gone now,
even though it's the past;
I can't let go.
But I can pretend to.